


for you alone make me dwell in safety

by ivelostmyspectacles



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Brotherhood: Final Fantasy XV, Caretaking, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Insomnia, M/M, Sleep Deprivation, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-12 17:58:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15345372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/ivelostmyspectacles
Summary: There is a moment of verbal hesitation, and Ignis chooses his next words carefully. Noct’s given him a way to ease into the conversation, though, and he intends to take it. “You haven’t been sleeping well, have you?





	for you alone make me dwell in safety

He awakens too slowly, amidst too many complaints. He’s too groggy. Staggering, lids drooping as he stumbles into the bathroom to wash his face, and Ignis watches the prince go with a frown and a prickle of unease.

Noctis looks no more awake after he resurfaces. His tie is untied, buttons askew. Ignis prepares a cup of coffee. He forgoes the milk and adds an ungodly amount of sugar– the only way Noct’ll take the stuff, and Ignis doesn’t dare pry now– and sets it on the countertop for the prince to drink if he wishes.

He will. He always does on mornings like these. Chugs it like it’s the only thing that’s keeping him going and, judging by how red Noctis’s eyes are as the two of them settle into the car, it probably is.

Ignis says nothing, but slips extra money into Noct’s bag if he wishes to buy a canned beverage or three later.

When he picks him up from school, Noct is _too_ quiet. He says ‘hey’ and then is silent for the rest of the trip, noncommental when Ignis tells him about the going-ons of the day. It doesn’t deter Ignis; he tells him, anyway, and he tells him he’ll be back later in the evening when he drops him off at home.

He isn’t offended when Noct doesn’t reply to him. He watches until the prince is out of his line of vision, and only then does he leave.

When he returns that evening, it isn’t a surprise to find Noct asleep on the couch. His school uniform’s been discarded; he’s stripped down to his boxer briefs, clearly prepared for sleep. Ignis is certain that he hasn’t had any dinner, but he doesn’t dare wake him for it. Instead, he holds his breath to cover Noct with a blanket, only relaxing when _that_ doesn’t wake him, either.

He won’t chance moving him to the bedroom, not now.

So he quietly picks up around the apartment instead and writes a note to Noct before letting himself out– although not before he sets a bag of dry cereal and a protein bar on the table should Noct wake and find himself hungry.

 

“Dude, you _completely_ bailed on me last night!”

Ignis lingers behind, respect for the prince’s friendship as well as for the fact that Noctis’s newest friend doesn’t seem to like him much. Or, to be brutally honest, Noct has mentioned that Prompto is _scared_ of him. He’s been called unapproachable many times before, and… lurking seven steps behind isn’t going to remedy that. But Prompto is Noctis’s friend, and Ignis hasn’t been invited to their conversation.

No matter. He’s close enough to hear, anyway.

“I fell asleep.”

_“Seriously??”_

“Hey, some of us have to work,” Noct says, nudging his shoulder. The tease, Ignis thought, falls a little flat, but Prompto doesn’t seem to notice.

The blonde gasps instead of commenting, shoving him back. “Hey!! I work too! I have a job!!”

“Some of us aren’t the prince,” Noct retorts. It sounds as though he’s smiling, although Ignis has a feeling it isn’t quite reaching his eyes.

He’s been around Noct most of his life. He knows how to tell the nuances apart in his voice, even if he can’t see the prince’s face. Like the day prior, Noct simply sounds _tired._

 _“Some_ of us are the best best friends!” Prompto chirps, and rummages around in his bag to pull out a sizable book. Ignis catches a glimmer of gold lettering reading _Assassin’s Creed_ – ah, the concept art book Noct had been talking about lately.

“You got me a copy?!”

“Uh, _yeah!!”_

_“Sweet!”_

Ignis smiles to himself, terse and faint. It’s good to see Noctis enthusiastic. That unease from yesterday still remains, though, and something tells him the enthusiasm won’t last for long.

 

Noct groans as he put his face in his hands, slumping forward to brace his elbows on the table. Ignis glances up from wrapping the cod fillet with aluminum foil, tilting his head back towards the prince. “Noct?”

“Oh, nothing.” His hands slide down to fall onto the table. The ballpoint pen goes spinning away. “Just tired, Specs, don’t worry.”

There is a moment of verbal hesitation, and Ignis chooses his next words carefully. Noct’s given him a way to ease into the conversation, though, and he intends to take it. “You haven’t been sleeping well, have you?”

He doesn’t turn around when Noct hesitates in response, and then speaks only a few seconds later. “Uh, I mean… just can’t turn my brain off, I guess. I’ve been sleeping when I get home and stuff, you know.”

“Yes,” he says quietly, and leaves it at that.

 

“I’m sorry for boring you.”

Noct waves a hand, turning to yawn away from Gladio’s face. “Sorry.”

“Get your head in the game, princess.”

“I’d rather have my head in bed,” Noct mumbles.

“Sleep later,” Gladio orders, brandishing his weapon. “Spar now.”

“Yeah yeah yeah.”

Ignis scrubs at the sweat collecting at the nape of his neck, keeping a close eye on the fight at hand. Noct has barely been matching Ignis in training today, and Gladiolus never holds back. He had taken the first bout with him on purpose– a fact he thinks he may regret, with a minute wince as he leans on a developing bruise, but no matter. He’s more concerned about Noct.

It takes three rounds for Noct to give up, his choice of weapon gone flying out of his hand every time. After the third time, Ignis isn’t sure if he looked threat to yell… or cry.

“You _need_ to pay attention,” Gladio reprimands, and the glare Noctis turns on him might have melted if it had been anyone else.

 _“You_ need to lay off!” he fires back. “I didn’t even want to train today!”

Ignis gets to his feet, but Noct’s already out the door.

Frowning, Gladio looks away from the door and to Ignis. “Oookay, what’s eating him?”

He shakes his head, and goes to gather his things to go change.

Half fearing he would find that the prince had left the Citadel, Ignis breathes out a sigh of relief when no one reports seeing him leave. While Noct had once been adept at sneaking out of the Citadel, the staff and servants have long since known all of his escape routes. Likely, he’d gone to hole up somewhere until their meeting in an hour and a half– one they were required to sit in on, one Noctis knows he can’t miss and one Ignis hopes he doesn’t try to.

But, an hour and a quarter later, Ignis finds him sprawled out across the bed in his old room. Eyes open, staring at the ceiling, although his attention transfers to Ignis as he walks up. “‘s that time already?”

“I’m afraid so.” Ignis gives him a small smile, and extends a hand. “No rest for the weary, it seems.”

Noct heaves a sigh, and lets Ignis help to pull him to his feet. “Yeah,” he mutters, “tell me about it.”

The meeting, lengthy as it ends up being, is interesting– at least to him. He doubts that Noctis is very interested, or very happy to be there, given how poorly he’d been feeling. Ignis glances up from his dutiful shorthand, transcripts of the discussions to write in longhand later for reference, and… finds the prince asleep.

 _Very_ clearly sleeping, with his head propped up on his hand, hair falling into his eyes, looking uncomfortable.

Ignis blinks rapidly.

Oh dear Gods.

Apparently, he is the only one to have _not_ noticed; there are various amounts of looks being shared amongst the council when the king isn’t looking, and Ignis doesn’t know whether to stand and go awaken the prince or merely ignore it like everyone else has been.

In the end, he stays motionless. Getting up to awaken the prince would disrupt the meeting further, and he’ll still be able to fill Noct in on everything he’s slept through as long as he keeps writing everything down. Right.

Still, he’s the first one to apologize as he makes a beeline for Noct after the meeting adjourns, resting a hand on his shoulder to shake him awake. “You’ll have to forgive him,” he says. It’s reflex. “He hasn’t been feeling well lately.” He feels Regis’s eyes on the both of them, can feel the worry from him even if, he expects, it’s subtle enough in the face of the council.

“If my son requires, he's welcome to stay at the Citadel tonight,” he says shortly nonetheless, and Ignis bites back a grimace.

“Thank you, Your Majesty, although I feel as though Noctis wouldn’t wish to impose.” Actually, he thinks Noct will be more comfortable in his own home, in his own bed. Not in his childhood one, anyway. “I’ll take him home.” He slips his hand beneath Noctis’s arm, and two fingers beneath his chin to lift it from his hand. “Highness, the meeting’s over.”

Something about that gets Noct awake, the phrase, probably. If only just. A moment's pause, and then he sits upright. “Oh… sorry…”

Ignis isn't blind to a glance Noct receives from the man who had been speaking last. He’s evidently unimpressed, which he supposes it fair. But he’s certain Noct doesn't miss that look either, for the way he subtly pauses and then pushes himself up. “Let's go…”

Ignis bids the king farewell and hurries after Noct, falling into step next to him. He’s silent, because if Noct wants to talk, then he will–

“‘s not like I fell asleep on _purpose._ ” Noct makes a face, and shoves his hands in his pockets. “You’d think from the dirty look he gave me I made a verbal declaration on how _boring_ he was. It’s not his stupid politics. I’m just _tired.”_

The councilman hadn’t been talking politics, precisely, but it wasn’t important now. Later, when Noct didn’t look and _sound_ the way he did now. “Yes, well, you know how the council can be about their personal opinions.” It’s an attempt at levity.

Noct doesn’t take it. “Yeah, like they’re the only things that matter,” he mutters. “Like, I’d sit and listen? I hate it, it’s stupid because we don’t even _do_ anything, but that’s what I’m expected to do, right? But whatever. They all just think I’m being _rebellious_ or something, anyway. _Lazy_. Like they know what it’s like to go around having the Crystal drain your energy day after day.” He continues before Ignis can comment, which is probably just as well. They both hate that topic. “And even _when_ I’m exhausted, I spend half the night awake and it starts all over again. Then I fall asleep during the day and _then_ I can’t sleep again later even though I’m actually _always_ exhausted.”

The truth, then, the one Ignis had been fearing the past few days. Noct being tired wasn’t uncommon. In fact, it would be more uncommon if he _wasn’t_ , given the aforementioned Crystal’s drain and how he had changed so much after the marilith attack– but Ignis doesn’t want to focus on that, can’t focus on that because it makes him sick to his stomach and he _aches_ for everything Noctis has had to go through– but sometimes, despite all of that, Noct had trouble falling asleep. Staying asleep, even, and Ignis could almost always pick out the nights where the insomnia flared up again.

Like it had been, for almost the past whole week.

“They don’t understand, Noct,” he says quietly, and the prince huffs a tiny, humorless laugh.

“Yeah. Tell me about it,” he repeats.

 

The text comes nearing four a.m, and Ignis tries to squint at the screen as anxiety begins to trickle in. Nothing good happens at four in the morning, but the screen is too bright and he’s still half asleep, so he fumbles for his glasses to give the message his full attention.

It’s from Noct, and it’s one brief sentence.

 **[RECEIVED]** can you come over

Even as Ignis’s anxiety peaks into panic, another message comes through.

 **[RECEIVED]** its not 911 so dont panic

 _Too late,_ he thinks wryly, and quickly texts back.

 **[SENT]** I’m on my way, Noct  
**[SENT]** Wait for me?

The second text is more to gauge a reaction than anything; he doesn’t expect Noct’s doing anything he ought not to be, but the response will speak more of his state of mind than even Noct probably realizes.

If Noct is texting him at four in the morning, regardless of _it’s not an emergency_ , _something_ is wrong. If it’s particularly bad, he knows Noct might not text him back at all. But he does, a few seconds later.

 **[RECEIVED]** not going anywhere

Ignis breathes a sigh of relief, typing out a response as he goes to get his shoes.

 **[SENT]** I’ll be there soon

He is. He lets himself into Noctis’s apartment with little preamble and makes certain not to go for the light switch. He’s already getting a headache himself, and Noct probably won’t appreciate the light at this time of morning. Noct most _definitely_ won’t appreciate the light at this time in the morning when he’s overly sleep deprived to the point of calling Ignis over to help.

“Noct…?”

A noise from the couch, and Ignis squints into the gloom. Noctis is curled up there, pressed up in the corner where the back of it meets the armrest, cocooned in a blanket far too large for his body.

He sets his keys down. “Did you take anything?”

“Wasn’t sure I should.”

“I think it might be overdue.” Sleeping aids aren’t his preferred remedy, although he’ll admit he’s taken them himself when the sleeplessness gets overwhelming. Sparing enough for him, but then, Noct doesn’t take them often, either. Most times, he’s no reason to, and Ignis is privately glad the prince doesn’t seem to like the medication. They were too easy to be reliant on, but Noct couldn’t continue on like this.

He makes another groggy noise as Ignis checks for a fever, and then his eyes drop from Ignis’s face as he looks at him. And smiles faintly, gives a noise that might have been a laugh if it wasn’t so tired. “Nice outfit, Specs.”

He’s mismatched, certainly, product of the old t-shirt turned pajamas and grabbing the first pair of trousers he’d found to slip on, but he can’t be bothered. If it makes Noctis smile, it’s a good distraction. “Thought I’d try a new type of fashion,” he jokes gently. “More eclectic, less formal.”

Noct actually laughs this time. _A good distraction._ “You, _eclectic?_ What next, couerl print on your boxer shorts?”

Ignis’s hand twitches to find where his shirt’s rucked up over his waistband. “If you find a pair available, let me know.”

“Hah… Specs… ow.” He winces, stilling. Ignis watches as his eyes flutter shut, and he’s familiar with the pain lines etched between his eyebrows. A headache isn’t surprising, if he’s been struggling with the insomnia this long.

“Do you want medication, Noct?”

“Maybe… I don’t know.” Noct groans, squirming to get comfortable. “Can you just, I dunno.” He waves a hand at the couch. “Sit, here, or something?”

“Ah…” _That’s_ familiar, borne of all the nights that Noct had had nightmares when he was younger. Now slightly different, but the point was the same. “Yes, of course.” It’s an easy request, even, as he settles himself at the opposite end of the couch and then gestures Noct over. He’d have to count on both hands how many times he had embarrassingly fallen asleep on Noctis’s couch.

He hesitates, only briefly, and then offers his arms.

Noct is immediately there _,_ warm and all encompassing and trembling minutely as he all but curls up against Ignis’s chest. “I’ve got you, Noct,” he murmurs, and slips his arms around him. He holds him as securely as he ever has, and rubs circles into his back. “Try to relax.”

“Trying,” Noctis says, and Ignis pretends he doesn’t hear the overtired rasp in his voice as he does.

Noct turns his face into Ignis’s shirt and Ignis turns his into Noctis’s hair, tucking him as close to him as he can possibly manage. Noctis says nothing, and neither does he.

 

He doesn’t know when, but they both fall asleep like that.

 

 _In peace I will lie down and sleep,_ __  
_for you alone, LORD, make me_ __  
_dwell in safety._

__

Psalm 4:8 

  


**Author's Note:**

> I was like, Noct's stressed as hell, he's depressed, two huge triggers for insomnia, what if, despite the Crystal, he gets _really_ tired but can't get to sleep. and of course Iggy is the one who notices and tries to help in his own subtle BH Iggy type of way
> 
> yes mostly this was just a projection piece built from the fact of my own insomnia flaring up ~~and my thyroid doesn't help even more joy~~ and being told repeatedly I'm a lazy ass and shouldn't be so tired when I don't do anything. So! the line "they don't understand" was pretty much my reasoning for even writing this in the first place lol


End file.
